


Christmas? It's too early for Christmas!

by spacebuck



Category: Avengers, Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist!Steve, Coming Untouched, M/M, Meet-Cute, Oral Sex, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, awkward first coffee date, christmas in july stucky competition, ish, retail worker!Bucky, shouty suburban mom, there wasn't supposed to be porn but porn happened oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:44:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4547148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebuck/pseuds/spacebuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve tapped his foot, considering for a long moment. He couldn’t see through the windows of the store too well from this angle, but it could be nothing. Or, it could be something bad. Not that this was a bad area, he told himself, but all the same. Shops still got broken into, still got robbed, still got held up. Wasn’t exactly easy to escape that in a big city, people were desperate.</p><p>And still the shouting continued.</p><p>With a loud sigh, Steve pulled his head back inside, closing the window and quickly pulling on shoes. He scanned the room, making sure he hadn’t left anything open, then grabbed his phone and his keys, and headed for the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas? It's too early for Christmas!

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for the stucky Christmas in July challenge, and I managed to wrangle third place which I am excited and astounded about
> 
> shoutout to the guy I saw today (11 august) dressed as santa
> 
> un-beta'd as usual

Shouting.

                Steve was pretty sure he could hear shouting.

                Scrubbing his hand over his face, he pushed himself to his feet, rolling his wrists until they clicked. Sticking his pencil between his teeth, he crossed his living room to open the window, sticking his head out and looking around carefully.

                The public kept moving below him, one or two people looking towards the craft store across the road, but most ignoring what was definitely shouting coming from the small shop.

                Steve tapped his foot, considering for a long moment. He couldn’t see through the windows of the store too well from this angle, but it could be nothing. Or, it could be something bad. Not that this was a bad area, he told himself, but all the same. Shops still got broken into, still got robbed, still got held up. Wasn’t exactly easy to escape that in a big city, people were desperate.

                And still the shouting continued.

                With a loud sigh, Steve pulled his head back inside, closing the window and quickly pulling on shoes. He scanned the room, making sure he hadn’t left anything open, then grabbed his phone and his keys, and headed for the door.

 

 

                Bucky stared, gobsmacked, at the woman in front of him. Of course, she took that as a further insult, volume increasing as she slammed her hand down on the counter.

                “This is a _craft store_!”

                “That’s correct, ma’am,” He managed to say.

                “Then where is the damned glitter?”

                “As I said before, we’re out of that colour. The shipment arri-“

                “ _The customer is always right!_ ” She screeched again, and if his job wasn’t on the line, he would have yelled right back. Instead he forced himself to smile, and opened his mouth to respond that _yes but we don’t have the stock_ when he heard another voice pipe up.

                “Hey, lady. Stop harassing the employees, okay? He said they don’t have it, so they don’t fucking have it.” Bucky looked towards the door, eyebrows going up as he saw the paint splattered and rumpled guy coming into the store because _oh no, he’s hot_.

                Hot Guy kept coming forward, as the woman turned on him, but before she could speak, the man was speaking again. “I could hear you from across the street, is your glitter really that important? Does it have to be from this store? Be rational.” He folded his arms across his chest, highlighting the fact that it was a _really nice_ chest, and Bucky had to drag his eyes away, fully aware that he was staring, and probably drooling a little.

                “But-“

                “But nothing lady, there’s no excuse to be that rude.”

                The woman spluttered, looking on the verge of throwing another fit, and Hot Guy just raised an eyebrow. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then huffed, and just when Bucky thought she was about to pull the ‘I want to speak to the manager’ routine (and that would be all the more entertaining given that he _was_ the manager), turned on her heel, flicked her hair out of her face, and stormed out of the shop.

                There was a moment of silence as they both watched her go, then they looked at each other, and Bucky bit his lip, fighting a laugh.

                “Well, that wasn’t pleasant,” Hot Guy said with a little grin, arms falling to his sides, hands tucking into his pockets.

                “It wasn’t. What it was, however, was fairly normal for those preppy soccer-mom types, Jesus Christ.” Bucky grinned as Hot Guy laughed softly, then leaned his elbows on the counter, hoping he looked more relaxed than he felt. “Thank you for stepping in, though.”

                “No problem. You looked like you were about to have a go at her yourself.”

                “And lost my job on top of it,” Bucky snorted, and Hot Guy nodded, smiling. He took a step back, glancing around the store for a moment, then almost awkwardly gave Bucky a little wave.

                “I uh, gotta go, but I’ll see you ‘round maybe?” Hot Guy turned, nearly walking into someone coming in, and left, Bucky grinning in his wake.

                Bucky couldn’t help that his eyes dropped to Hot Guy’s ass as he walked away, and realised that he was watching the guy like a bit of a creep. He turned back to the store, but shot a glance towards the guy as he crossed the road, and went up into one of the apartments above the street.

                Bucky was struck by the fact that this guy, this random stranger, had left his _home_ because he’d heard something off. Holy _shit_. Bucky wouldn’t have believed it had it not actually happened, and honestly, he didn’t know whether to believe it, and it had played out right in front of him.

 

 

 

                Over the next couple of days, Bucky didn’t keep an eye on the door Hot Guy had ducked into. Because that would be creepy, he told himself. He didn’t wear the jeans his best friend had said made his ass look great either. That would be ridiculous. And he _definitely_ didn’t feel the twist of butterflies whenever he actually _saw_ Hot Guy leaving his apartment. Of course not.

                Except he caught himself doing all of those things, day after day. The only problem was, Hot Guy didn’t come back in. The only thing that even _hinted_ at Hot Guy was a strange event in which another man had come out of HG’s apartment, come into the store, and just _looked_ at Bucky for a moment. Then he’d muttered what had sounded like ‘You’ll do’ and left, disappearing back into HG’s apartment. Which had been weird, but honestly not the strangest thing to have happened to Bucky in retail.

                Nat came and harassed him more than once about ‘ _whoever it is you’re pining over goddamnit Barnes_ , just ask them out already’, but as the days went by, Bucky resigned himself to not seeing Hot Guy again. Which he wasn’t all that surprised about, if he was completely honest.

                So, when he came back from his break one day, a week or so later, and was greeted by Hot Guy leaning against the counter, a handful of copic markers and a sketchpad sitting by his elbow, Bucky was most definitely surprised.

                “Hey,” he said with a smile, and Bucky couldn’t help but grin in return, despite the butterflies in his stomach returning with a vengeance, just from being close to the guy.

                “Hey yourself. You okay there?” Bucky nodded at the small pile of items, and Hot Guy glanced down for a moment, then nodded, grinned.

                “Yeah,” Hot Guy lifted one hand slightly, a receipt in his hand. “Just waiting for someone.”

                “They show?”

                “Finally. Thought he wasn’t going to for a bit. Had to buy something so I didn’t get kicked out for lurking, good thing I needed some new pens.” Bucky grinned at that, and before he could think better of it, stuck out his hand.

                “Bucky.”

                “Steve,” was the response, as the other man took his hand in a firm grip. Before either of them could pull back, Hot Guy – Steve – twisted his hand, grabbing one of his new pens and tugging off the cap with his teeth. He looked at Bucky for a moment, who just grinned wider, then scrawled a handful of digits across the bone of his wrist.

                When Bucky raised an eyebrow at the location, Steve shrugged slightly, a light flush on his cheeks. “It’s for you, not your customers,” was the response, and Bucky couldn’t fault that.

                “Now, I have to go – again – if I wanna make this deadline, but call me? Or text, or whatever,” Steve said with a grin, even as the redness on his cheeks spread, collecting his gear. “We could get coffee? If you drink it that is.”

                “If? How do you think I’ve kept a job in _retail_?” Bucky said with a laugh, pleased when Steve grinned.

                “Very true. Now, I really do have to go, but yeah, text me?” Bucky nodded, and Steve turned, heading out of the shop and back across the road.

                “So, Barnes, you ask him out this time?” The silky voice behind him made him jump, and he turned, glaring at Natasha. She waved her hands before he could scold her about sneaking up on him – _again_ – and he sighed, dropping the subject and answering her question instead.

                “Nah, but I got his number, so it’s a start.”

 

 

 

                It had taken them a week and a half of getting to know each other by text to get to this point, sitting in a coffee shop opposite each other. Steve was smiling nervously into his cup, and Bucky was chewing on his lower lip, and they were both ignoring the amused looks they were getting from the other patrons. They were tucked into a far corner of the nearby Starbucks, settled in the obscenely plush couches, and it was awkward to say the least.

                First dates were supposed to be awkward, at least at first, Bucky reasoned as he met Steve’s gaze for a moment before they both looked away again.

                Then Steve snickered, setting his cup on the table, and dragged his fingers through his hair, shoving his bangs out of his face. “This is so much harder than I expected it to be,” he said with a grin, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

                “Not in public Steve!” He said, pretending to be shocked, and Steve cracked into a full belly laugh, falling against the back of his seat and covering his face.

                “Fuck you,” he laughed, and Bucky leaned forward slightly, raising an eyebrow.

                “Not on the first date, what do you take me for?” He retorted, and Steve dissolved into laughter again, head falling back over the back of the chair, and Bucky had to swallow, stop himself from tracing the curve of Steve’s throat with his eyes because that’d probably be a little forward, and creepy. But damn, it was difficult.

                The banter, so like their text conversations from the week before, made Bucky relax, smiling as he sipped his sugar-trap of a drink, and from the looks of things, it wasn’t just him that it helped. Steve’s smile seemed more natural, and he had stopped the nervous little bounce of his knee.

                Steve lifted his head, grinning as he met Bucky’s gaze, and Bucky cocked an eyebrow, thinking that maybe this could work.

 

 

 

                “I hate Christmas.” Bucky whined, holding out his hands for inspection

                “It’s October, Buck.” His boyfriend – _boyfriend!_ – said with a soft laugh, brushing his fingers carefully over Bucky’s palms, avoiding the glaringly red scratches covering his hands.

                “Tell that to the storeowners,” he grumbled, dropping his hands to his lap as Steve moved away, searching the bathroom cabinet. “Why does an arts and crafts store need _holly_ Steve, why?”

                “Because it’s Christmas.” Was the smirked reply as Steve came back, crouching in front of him again. Bucky bit his lip as Steve carefully smoothed antiseptic cream over his hands, before covering the worst cuts with plasters.

                “You shit.”

                Steve snickered, leaning forward to brush a kiss over Bucky’s forehead, before standing and pulling Bucky upright.

                “You love it. Now go sit down, I’ll grab some drinks.” Steve headed towards the kitchen, and Bucky couldn’t help himself, swatting Steve’s ass as he went past, only to yelp as pain flared in his hand. Steve laughed outright at him, and Bucky followed with a pout, flopping face first onto Steve’s tiny couch.

                He heard Steve return, and mumbled against the cushions when he heard the click of glasses on the coffee table. He relaxed as Steve lifted his feet, sat down, and put Bucky’s feet in his lap. Bucky sighed softly, wiggling his toes against Steve’s thigh, then turned to look up at Steve.

                Bucky wiggled his toes again, raising an eyebrow, then grinned when Steve gave an over the top sigh and set his glass back down. Bucky shifted until he was on his back, then flexed a foot, and hummed happily when the foot was caught in gentle hands, thumbs pressing against the fleshy part of his foot.

                “Baby,” Steve murmured, and Bucky felt his heart melt a little, his smile turning sappy as he lifted his head to look at Steve.

                “Yeah Stevie?”

                “I feel like…” Steve paused, considered, his fingers not letting up on Bucky’s foot, only switching to the other one.

                When Steve didn’t continue for a long moment, Bucky nudged his stomach with a foot, and Steve jumped slightly, flushing guiltily. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile, before finishing his sentence with, “icing. I feel like chocolate icing.”

                “How do you get distracted thinking about that?” Bucky asked with a grin, and Steve slumped into the couch, tucking his chin against his chest, flushing darker.

                “Stevie.”

                “I was thinking about all the practical applications of chocolate icing,” the blond mumbled, and Bucky grinned wider.

                “We’re not talking about cake, are we?”

                Steve mumbled “No,” under his breath, and Bucky dug his heel into Steve’s thigh firmly with a soft laugh.

                “Shit outta luck Stevie, I can’t do anything with my hands today,” Bucky said with a grin, wiggling his fingers slightly before resting them back on his stomach and nudging his toes against Steve’s hands.

                He sighed softly when Steve resumed the firm massage, and when Steve switched to the other foot, Bucky couldn’t stop the soft moan as he slumped further into the couch. When he felt Steve’s thigh twitch under his feet, he grinned, stretching his hands over his head and sighing his way into another moan, this time completely on purpose.

                There was no mistaking the way Steve’s fingers clenched on his foot, or the hitch in his boyfriend’s breathing, and Bucky hummed softly, smirking as he closed his eyes.

                “You wouldn’t have to do anything with your hands,” Steve murmured softly, sounding hopeful, and Bucky tapped his toes against Steve’s hand as though he was considering it, as though he hadn’t been on board since the moment Steve had started massaging his feet.

                Bucky hummed in thought, biting his lip, and didn’t miss the way Steve’s breath caught. “Do you even have any icing?” he murmured, and Steve paused, hands stilling for a moment. Just when Bucky was about to protest, Steve nudged his feet to the cushion and stood, heading for the kitchen as if the question had been both a query and permission all in one.

                Not that it hadn’t been.

                He stretched his feet out on the couch as he waited for his boyfriend to return, grinning, and then laughed when he heard an annoyed whine from the other room. He looked up, raising an eyebrow at Steve, who was standing in the doorway, looking forlorn, a small container in hand.

                “Show me?” Steve held up the container, turning it so Bucky could see the label, and Bucky snickered, head falling back against the arm of the couch.

                “In what world is strawberry glaze the same as chocolate icing Stevie?” He snickered, and Steve threw the container at him, making him laugh harder.

                “Shut up,” Steve grumbled, following the glaze over and dropping to his knees beside the couch, putting them on the same level.

                “Make me,” Bucky said with a grin, raising an eyebrow, and Steve looked like he had been waiting for Bucky to say exactly that.

                He caught Bucky’s chin in his hand, leaned forward, and Bucky wasn’t laughing anymore, a noise caught in his throat as Steve’s lips slid over his. Bucky felt Steve’s lips curl, and huffed out a breath, dropping his hands to Steve’s shoulders and tugging him closer.

                “Punk,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve laughed softly, nipping Bucky’s lip.

                “Jerk,” Was the response, before Steve was kissing him properly, one hand sliding up to cup Bucky’s jaw. Bucky’s fingers curled in Steve’s shirt, and he tugged on the fabric, wanting Steve closer. Steve obliged, leaning over him as Bucky’s hands slid under the collar of his shirt.

                It wasn’t long before Steve was pulling back, much to Bucky’s annoyance. “Not on the couch,” Steve murmured in explanation, and Bucky nodded, letting Steve pull him to his feet. Steve grinned, linking their fingers lightly and leading Bucky to his room.

                Bucky was quickly on his back, Steve kneeling between his legs, his fingers in Steve’s hair as his boyfriend’s lips dragged over his collarbone, down his chest. Bucky hummed, dragging one foot over Steve’s calf, nudging him with his toes. “Don’t have all day,” he drawled, though the effect was lost when Steve licked his nipple through his shirt, making him gasp.

                “Impatient,” Steve huffed, and Bucky snorted, one hand dragging down to the hem of Steve’s shirt, tugging on the fabric. Steve sat back, pulling his shirt off, and Bucky took the moment to remove his own. Steve’s hands dropped to his belt, and Bucky cupped the back of Steve’s neck, pulling him down to kiss him again.

                Steve bit Bucky’s lip, then moved his mouth back to Bucky’s chest as he worked at Bucky’s belt. Bucky dragged his fingers down Steve’s back, smoothing over the muscle before digging his fingers into his hips when Steve sucked firmly on his nipple.

                Bucky shoved at Steve’s pants, getting them down over his hips and gripping his ass, rocking his hips up as Steve got a hand down his pants. Bucky swore under his breath, and Steve grinned against his chest before dragging his tongue over the line of Bucky’s hip.

                “Can I?” Steve asked, hooking his fingers in the hem of Bucky’s jeans, and Bucky nodded, lifting his hips. Steve dragged his pants down, tossed them to the side, and planted a hand on Bucky’s hips, and pressed him back against the mattress. He licked his lips, then dragged his tongue up Bucky’s cock, and Bucky’s head hit the mattress as he groaned.

                Steve sucked him down with a hum, and Bucky’s eyes closed, fingers burying in Steve’s hair and tugging, but Steve didn’t let up, licking and sucking with a single minded focus, turning him into a moaning wreck in record time.

                “Steve,” He whined, and Steve just hummed, licking over the head of his cock and looking up at Bucky through his eyelashes. Bucky swore, and Steve huffed a laugh before sucking him down again, and Bucky knew he was screwed.

                “Steve,” He repeated, hips rolling up without his conscious decision, not wanting to come, but knowing Steve would drag it out of him. Steve raised an eyebrow, hand dragging down, until he could rub a finger against Bucky’s hole, and Bucky gasped, tensing, and whimpered, “M’gonna come.” Steve hummed, then swallowed around Bucky, and he came with a shout, shoving Steve’s head further down without thinking. Steve relaxed, dropping his hands to Bucky’s thighs and stroking over them as he pulled back, grinning smugly.

                “Shut up,” Bucky mumbled, tugging Steve’s hair, and his boyfriend came up, kissing him slowly. Bucky slid his hands down Steve’s sides, cupping his hips, then dragged one hand across, before raising an eyebrow when he realised that Steve was softening and sticky.

                “You’re hot,” Steve said unrepentantly, nipping Bucky’s lip, and he laughed softly, pushing Steve to his back and curling into him.

                “I can’t believe you,” Bucky said with a little grin, before kissing him again, hitching a leg over Steve’s as Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist, pulling him in.

                “You love it,” Steve said with a snort, and Bucky laughed softly, tucking his nose against Steve’s throat and kissing at the still-racing pulse under his lips.

                “Yeah, guess I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments, questions, prompts etc. are always welcome, both here and at my [tumblr.](http://brickhousebuck.tumblr.com)


End file.
